telephone

The last time I played telephone was in the first grade. We played during a fire drill in order to pass time. After the initial shock of "chicken nuggets" becoming "Rick and Meg's cats," we slowly grasped the way to overcome the mispronunciation--speak loudly, listen clearly.

I never would have thought that this elementary game would manifest itself in my actual life. Last week, as my family took its usual seats around the kitchen and family room--my father standing above some dark chocolate scattered on a TIME magazine, my sister lying on the couch with her laptop propped on her knees, my mother standing by the stove in frantic disarray, and I sitting at the counter with some cheese--we engaged ourselves in some real-world telephone.

Manu: Guys, you don't have to come to my dance if you want to pick up Dinaben and Nanaji from the airport.

Rucha: Yea, no big deal, I can drop her off at Mexicali Blues. And I'll get wasted while I'm there. Where is it? Is it on Cedar Lane?

Abhay: What about Mexico? Aw, guys, I am so sorry, I didn't know you wanted to go to Mexico for Christmas. Okay, fine, no problem, let me start planning it now.

Parul: Katariiiinaaaaa.

Manu: Who wants to go to Mexico?

Rucha: Isn't Katarina a Russian name?

Abhay: [launches into history of the name, "Katarina"]

Parul: Who cares? I was just saying we should watch "Dancing with the Stars!"

Manu: Oooh okay! But watch my dance first I need to practice for Sunday.

Abhay: Speaking of which, we might not be able to go because we have to pick up Dinaben and Nanaji from the airport. Will that be a problem?

~~~